


The Call of The Hunt

by WittyWallflower



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Crime, Father Figures, Gen, Space Pirates, Thievin', Yondu pulling Peter out of trouble as a theme to their relationship, Young Peter Quill, blue space dad, space brothels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-11-06 15:39:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11039178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WittyWallflower/pseuds/WittyWallflower
Summary: from a prompt to write a fic for a title given at random "The Call of the Hunt"Young Peter is small and skinny, good for thieving. That doesn't necessary mean he is good AT thieving. When a job goes wrong, Yondu has to help him out.





	The Call of The Hunt

Yondu Udonta stood on a catwalk above the choked and smelly walkways of the Ka’ryg station,. His fingers were drumming against the railing as he watched the throng of beings crowding around and past each other.  When the job was done, they’d best be leaving prompt-like. But Yondu should have time for a drink and a visit to the bouncy gals at a sexbot house.

He stuck his hand in the pocket of his coat and listened to the unit chips clattering against each other. It would take a bite out of his stash, but they’d all be flush again after they fenced today’s take. It had been damn smart thinkin’ to use the boy on this job. Maybe he’d even let Kraglin share the credit for coming up with the idea.

A flash of color below caught his eye and Yondu followed it. A beautiful android with lustrous red synth-skin had taken up position in the window of the nearest brothel. Well now, wasn’t she just the right shade to match his fin? Real pretty one. Best get down there before some other ugly bastard could claim her.

But when he stepped away from the railing, an alarm sudenly started ringing through the station. A loud, rude klaxon like a rusty old horn, it was followed by the thump of boots from the security force. Yondu stepped back into a doorway, pulling up his collar and trying to blend into a shadow. The group of thugs that jogged by paid him no mind though. He could just make out their leader reporting on a possible system breach: one suspected perpetrator fleeing the scene, suspected Aleenan with no known accomplices. The docks were on lockdown and no ships were coming or going anytime soon.

Aleenan. They weren’t a common species to see in the greater gyre. Not many people had seen one, despite being familiar with the existence of the Aleena system and its inhabitants. This ignorance came in handy and Yondu had been able to pass Peter off as Aleena on a job or two since Aleenans tended towards small and scrawny. People asked too many questions about the word “Terran”. People gossiping about his species or his home planet of Earth would draw too much attention to Peter. Words had a way of making their way to the the last pair of ears you wanted hearing them.

Far as Yondu knew, Ego had never visited Aleena to knock up the locals. Wasn’t likely he’d pay attention if he heard anything about one.

But no Aleena would bother with this jerkwater station that crawled through a way-galaxy in the middle of nowhere, like a louse through the pubes of a space-waster. You just didn’t see Aleena outside of the ‘polite’ society of Nova Empire.

Which could only mean one thing.

Yondu sighed and bit back a curse, taking a last regretful look at the red-lit entrance to the pleasure house. He’d better be holdin’ on to those units a bit longer; sounds like this job is going sideways and they’d be lucky to get out with their ship intact. Hell, that boy was a damn pain in his blue backside sometimes. 

 

* * *

 

Peter Quill ran. His feet pounded on the metal catwalks as he slipped, lithe and small, between the press of large and strange bodies around him. He thought he recognized most of the species on this station, but he wasn’t here as a tourist. He didn’t have time to gawk at the strangers around him. He’d be lucky if he made it back to the ship.

Not that making it back to the ship was going to do him much good. The crew was going to be furious with Peter for failing on this job. But how was Peter supposed to know a pack of space rodents would be migrating through that access shaft? Internal security sensors for a dump like this weren’t very sensitive or well monitored; they didn’t bother tracking the Orloni. That oversight had allowed Peter, small as he was, to slip through, movement and heat signature registering much the same as a large pack of the rodents.

But Peter plus an _actual_ pack of space rats doubled the heat signature. And all of Peter’s slow and careful movements up until then had been for nothing when he began to squirm at all the tiny clawed feet swarming over him. He had been slapping away the vicious rodent teeth trying to gnaw on his soft parts when he heard the klaxon. Peter Quill had learned quickly from the Ravagers: at the first sound of an alarm, you get your ass out.

His breath was loud as it rasped in and out but the squawk of the alarm still drowned it out. A cramp was forming in his side and Peter realized in his mad dash, he’d lost track of the few corridors that were familiar to him. Yondu hadn’t given him the chance to fully scope the place out and only taught him the route from the ship to the loot and back. Now Peter was completely turned around, with an entire station’s security force hunting for him.

He darted down a service corridor and spotted a dark corner hidden by grating behind the back of a control panel. Peter wedged himself out of sight and tried to quiet his panthing breaths. He had no idea how to get back to the ship from here. What if Yondu left without him? The Ravagers weren’t exactly nice guys, in fact they were big scary jerks. But at least they were jerks he was coming to understand. If left on his own, Peter didn’t have the first clue how to begin surviving here.

Two groups of guards had hustled past his hiding spot. He flinched each time, expecting any moment to be discovered. But after a while the service corridor was silent. Peter peeked his head out to find the coast was clear. He might get caught trying to find the ship, but he didn’t want to be left behind. Creeping stealthy, ready to hide again or just run flat-out at a moment’s notice, he made it to the main walkway. Maybe he could lose himself in the crowd. Only problem was the guards stationed at the main intersections, scanning for small bodies amongst the taller species.

Peter spotted a thick cluster of people wearing long heavy robes. If he could time it right when the guards weren’t looking, and make it into that group, the garments should be enough to shield him. Like hiding in the clothing racks at stores back home, his mom pretending she couldn’t find him before swooping in to tickle him. 

He shook the thought off. This wasn’t the moment to be sad that she’d never do that again.

Peter took a few breaths, bouncing on his toes in readiness as he watched the station security thugs, waiting for his opening. He spotted it and was poised to sprint when a hand closed around his collar. Yanked back into the dim service corridor, Peter struggled furiously, kicking his legs and trying to twist around the scratch as his captor. A hand covered his mouth to muffle any screams. Which was stupid, Peter thought, he wasn’t going to yell when he was the one trying to stay hidden. But still he sank his teeth into a finger out of sheer principle.

There was a curse and a hand cuffed him upside the head before clamping over his mouth again. He was hefted up in the air by a strong arm across his chest that bound his hands to his sides.

“Quiet, boy! You wantin’ to get us killed?” a voice hissed in his ear.

Yondu. Peter stopped struggling when he recalizedwho held him. The two froze, listening sharply to see if the scuffle had drawn attention to them. But the corridor stayed still and silent.

With a bit of scouting, Yondu found a path to their ship that avoided the most traveled areas of the station. But as they got closer, security got heavier and harder to slip around. Ravagers had a reputation and Yondu’s crew were prime suspects for any trouble that happened in most ports. They would need to lay low till the excitement died down.

Yondu and Peter picked they way back to where Yondu had started. The boy crouched in an out of the way corner while Yondu stepped inside the brothel. It cost all the credit in his pocket to make the arrangements but soon he had secured a room for several hours. The fetching red gal came with the room, but Yondu instructed her to shut herself down before he smuggled Peter in.

Peter was trying not to cower as he stood before Yondu in the gaudy yet grimy little room. There was no way they were gonna get any loot today, he knew. The captain would be so mad at the loss of profit but Peter couldn’t think about the money. He had been a little terrified at the thought of being left behind. It was a surprise to realize he didn’t want to leave this dumb blue jerk.

If he couldn’t go home, that is.

The reminder of home, after the earlier reminder of his mother, after the adrenaline and anxiety of this misadventure, was too much for the young boy. He swallowed, trying to control himself. His eyes were on the floor so Yondu wouldn’t see him cry. Mostly Peter tried not to think about home too much. Yondu didn’t have much patience for ‘snivelin’’. 

Usually it was easy; space was full of distractions.

But Peter Quill was still a young boy. And after a scare, a young boy wants his mother. Yondu didn’t know that, didn’t even realize the boy was crying as Yondu stood there trying to decide exactly where to start the yelling. But when Peter betrayed himself with a single sniffle, Yondu’s irritation deflated. Hell, jobs get botched in any line of work. Later they’d figure out what went wrong and exactly how much of it could be blamed on Peter. 

For now they had to wait and Yondu wasn’t looking to spend hours with a sulky crying child.

“Get some shut-eye, boy.” he ordered, gruff and surly as he waved a hand towards the bed. “Been a long day and it ain’t half over.”

Peter started in surprise but didn’t look at Yondu, still intent on hiding his tears. He crawled under the covers and laid down, letting the pillow dry his cheeks.

When he could hear Peter’s breathing even out, Yondu slid off his coat and tossed it on a chair next to where the deactivated android sat. The blue man looked at the red lady consideringly for a moment, wondering just how soundly a young boy could sleep. But with a grimace of annoyance, he decided against it. Shut-eye didn’t sound so bad though. Kraglin knew his captain well and when the ship was finally cleared to leave he would check all the pleasure houses on this armpit of a station till he found Yondu.

Yondu set his arrow on the narrow nightstand beside the bed, where it was handy just in case any further surprises popped up while they slept. Kicking off his boots, he settled down on top of the covers besides Peter. The boy had slipped into a deep sleep immediately, his features slackened and his lips parted to drool on the pillow. Yondu chuckled, seems every creature in the ‘verse looked undignified in sleep. Peter himself looked so different. Gone was the glare the boy wore for everyone, the twitchy jumpiness that made him startle at the slightest sound.

Now the boy looked downright peaceful, almost… soft. Yondu was reminded of a sweet tender fruit he’d had planetside once. His strong fingers sank in to the delicate skin and he’d mangled it before he’d even realized it needed gentle handling. No matter carefully he’d handled the next, he still left deep impressions on the flesh. Like that fruit, Yondu felt the urge to try to protect Peter from bruising. It wouldn’t be possible. Ravager life was rough. But he could ease the worst of the blows till Quill had time to ripen into a man.

He certainly wasn’t going to let that Ego asshole juice Peter and toss his bones in a pile. Yondu shuddered at the memories of the other children he’d brought to Ego, thinking he was just ferrying a rich man’s kids home to live on a rich man’s planet. He’d had no idea Ego was killing every one of them. _His own children._ Well, Yondu wasn’t going to let that happen to Peter.

No, not to _**his** _ boy.


End file.
